


I'm Wide Awake and So Alive

by patdkitten



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Disabled Character, Famous Harry, M/M, Minor Angst, Non-Famous Louis, Physical Disability, a dog named beckham, reference to a car accident in the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 00:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6542863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patdkitten/pseuds/patdkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He ignores him, though, pushing himself and Beckham to the end of the aisle and bumps into someone, sending them to the floor with a loud 'oof'. Too late, Beckham barks a warning before sniffing the injured party, but Louis. Louis <i>freezes</i>.</p><p>He <i>knows</i> that lanky frame sprawled on the floor, even though it's broader and longer than he remembers, and the hair's longer than he remembers it being. But he <i>knows</i> this person.</p><p>And he wants to be anywhere but here, at the end of the canned veggie aisle of his local grocery, staring down at someone from his past, as that someone gets a soothing lick from his dog.</p><p>---<br/>Louis got into a car accident his senior year and wound up permanently in a wheelchair. Instead of telling his high school sweetheart Harry, Louis ran as far from his problems as he could. A few years later, he's doing better about himself and being in a wheelchair. Until he runs into his high school sweetheart in a rather unorthodox way. Harry's excited to see him again, but Louis isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Wide Awake and So Alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [louloubaby92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/louloubaby92/gifts).



> For the prompt: "I want a fic wer louis and harry wer high school sweethearts then louis leaves without telling harry -bt not on purpose, but due to a car accident or family problems and bec louis was shy and unpopular, no one knows what happened to him and harry pines and longs then becomes a popstar and then they meet again and this time, harry holds on to louis and is almost possessive about it bec he doesnt want to lose him again. (no zayn pls)". I hope I did it justice!
> 
> Beta'd by the awesome T.  
> Cheerleader'd by the awesome C.  
> Title from the song Car Crash by Matt Nathanson
> 
>  
> 
> I have no real knowledge of what differently abled people go through in their daily lives. All knowledge on spinal cord injuries and disability dogs are taken from Google and Wikipedia. If I've gotten anything wrong, please, please, please enlighten me in the comments.

The sound of something dripping is what brings Louis to full consciousness, pulling him from distorted dreams of glass and pain and blood. It takes him a minute to realise the sound he hears isn't more dripping blood, but the sound of the shower on the other side of his wall. Liam must've showered, which is good because the man wakes up at the arsecrack of dawn to go for morning runs. Louis wishes he'd get hit by a car.

He groans as the thought – one he has every time he's reminded of Liam going for morning runs – crosses his mind, burying his face in his hands and scrubbing at his skin. He focuses on the roughness of his morning stubble, using it to push both the negative thought and the remnants of bad dreams from his mind. He wouldn't wish a hit and run on anyone, much less Liam of all people. Even if Liam's an overbearing twat who can't take a hint.

He carefully stretches his arms over his head, feeling the bones of his spine pop satisfyingly. Or rather the parts of his spine he can still feel; he's spent the past few years hoping that he'd wake up, stretch and feel anything below his waist, but every day he doesn't. Louis has become aware that how he feels about that is how he's going to feel about his day; today looks to be just like any other day.

His movements wake up the golden retriever that sleeps curled up at the base of his bed and it lifts its head with a sleepy little bark. It never fails to make him smile, even on the bad days.

“Hey, Beckham. Come up to Daddy.” He pats his chest and the dog makes its careful way up to him, resting its chin on his chest a moment and wagging its tail against a useless leg. He runs his hand through the dog's soft fur, using the softness to ground himself in the same way he'd used the roughness of his stubble. Even on the good days, mornings are the worst for him. He always combats bad dreams and half remembered memories, as he tries to focus on what the day ahead of him holds. It's been five years since some drunk ran a stop sign, slammed into his car and ruined Louis' life, and Louis has moved into a pretty good mental place about the whole thing. He'll never walk again, but he's got a good support system surrounding him to help him through it, including the disability assistance dog that his mum had managed to get him that first year after his accident and meeting his best mate Liam at one of his physical therapies.

Speaking of Liam, the man in question knocks carefully, poking his head in after a moment. “You decent?”

Beckham's tail thumps more against Louis' useless leg at the sight of Liam, but Louis can't help but roll his eyes and go for sarcasm. “No, I was just about to come, mate. You wanna help?”

Just like he expected, Liam goes bright red, but comes into the room anyway. “Figured you'd like to get your arse out of bed. It's getting late, even for you.”

A glance at his alarm clock tells him Liam's right. He wasn't aware of it, but it's already approaching noon, and as tempting as it is, he can't actually spend all day in bed.

Even though he's doing good about being stuck in a wheelchair, Louis hates the pitying looks he gets from people, so he decided a couple years back to just become a recluse. He'd been spending enough time avoiding people unless he had to, putting his thoughts into journals like his psychotherapist had recommended as part of his therapy, and had managed to turn it into a pretty decent novel featuring a gay protagonist in a wheelchair finding love. He's not famous by any means, but the few novels he's written since help cover his half of the flat he lives in with Liam and Beckham, and it also covers the extensive medical bills he has being a paraplegic.

He knows he's got friends who think that because Louis works from home, he just lounges around all day and watches shit shows on the telly. For the most part, they're right, but that's one of the reasons he's got Liam living with him. His mate keeps him on a normal schedule, and as much as the other man frustrates him for doing it, Liam's also really good at helping Louis live an independent life.

Louis just also spends a lot of time wishing Liam wouldn't do tasks for him that Beckham's been trained to do.

“Left you some hot water.” Liam pulls out some joggers and a t-shirt from Louis' dresser, tossing them to him as he crosses toward the bed. “Figured you'd like a shower.”

“Are you saying I _stink_?” Louis wraps his arms around the other man's neck as Liam slides careful hands under Louis' legs and behind his back to pick him up. He hates having to depend on someone just to get him into and out of bed, and to get him to various rooms because the flat isn't designed for his wheelchair. But he's also glad he's got someone like Liam who doesn't seem to mind terribly.

He hates Liam, but he's also so _so_ grateful for Liam.

 

 

He hates Liam. He really, _really_ hates Liam. Louis also hates the supermarket and being in public and the fact there's this irritating wanker petting Beckham despite the vest saying the dog is currently working and that Louis wasn't even asked if the dog _could_ be petted, but he mostly hates Liam. Because Liam has left him alone with the cart, Beckham and the wanker petting his dog.

“Do you mind?” He finally snaps and the young man rubbing Beckham's ears starts, staring at Louis with wide eyes. If he were in a better mood, he'd feel guilty about it. But he's not, so he narrows his eyes and rolls himself closer. The young man's eyes drop toward the wheelchair like he hadn't noticed it before, and Louis _wishes_ he could forget his chair so easily. Instead, though, he points at the blue vest that states that Beckham is a service dog and to 'please do not pet me, I'm working'. “He's a service dog and is currently working, which is why he's been allowed into the shop. Again, d'you mind?”

The young man stammers an apology that Louis doesn't really hear before scurrying away. He's still scowling, adjusting Beckham's vest when Liam finds him again. He's carrying a bag of dog food over one shoulder and a large rawhide bone in his free hand. Beckham's tail goes wild when the service dog spots the bone, already sniffing it happily and clearly having forgotten that he's supposed to be supporting Louis and helping him reach things that he can't bend down for.

Louis really hates Liam.

“Some wanker was just petting Becks,” he greets Liam, checking to make sure Beckham's leash is properly secured to the wheelchair – it always is, but it gives him something to do that isn't glowering at Liam for abandoning him – before he rolls himself toward the end of the aisle. He knows the shopping, which is why they're here in the first place, isn't finished, but he's had enough of being in public.

Liam's used to Louis' bad moods in public, choosing to put the bag of dog food and the bone into the cart instead of reacting to said bad mood. “An employee stopped me in the pet aisle. Seems some big shot celeb is coming into the store for a photo op, so they're trying to clear out most of the people to make it look more organic.”

Louis' hands on the push rings of his chair freeze momentarily at the words 'photo op'. In the few years he's been in his chair, he's avoided cameras that show him from the waist down. He definitely doesn't want to be in the background of some celebrity snapshot in his chair. Liam's more than aware of it; it's probably why he's even mentioning it to him because he's pretty sure that Liam would've loved to be in the background of said pictures. He eventually shakes himself, untangling Beckham's leash when the dog wanders back toward Liam. “All the more reason to get out of the store before they come in. No one wants someone like me in pap pictures.”

He can hear Liam sigh behind him. He knows why; he knows that Liam hates it when Louis looks down on himself for being a paraplegic, even on his good days. He also knows that Liam's well aware that Louis' bad mood is because of being out in public when he didn't want to be out in the first place.

He ignores him, though, pushing himself and Beckham to the end of the aisle and bumps into someone, sending them to the floor with a loud 'oof'. Too late, Beckham barks a warning before sniffing the injured party, but Louis. Louis _freezes_.

He _knows_ that lanky frame sprawled on the floor, even though it's broader and longer than he remembers, and the hair's longer than he remembers it being. But he _knows_ this person.

And he wants to be anywhere but here, at the end of the canned veggie aisle of his local grocery, staring down at someone from his past, as that someone gets a soothing lick from his dog.

“Are you okay?” Liam's voice comes from behind him, reminding Louis of his manners, even as he continues to will the floor to eat him alive or his body to take on a new mutant power to make him invisible or _something_. He dimly feels Liam's broad hand land on his shoulder. “Don't mind this arse. He's in a bad mood and doesn't care who he runs over in his chair in the process.”

“That's fine. 'm okay.” The stranger sits up, smiling a bit up at them, although he seems to not notice Louis. _Fuck_ , even Harry's dimples haven't changed, and _why is Louis still here_. Even if Harry hasn't noticed him. He should escape before he does, because Louis is a _coward_.

As if aware of his thoughts, Harry's eyes fall on Louis and his eyes widen in clear recognition. “Lou...”

Okay. _Okay_. Louis can _not_ deal with today. Not anymore. He shoves himself backwards hard, managing to turn himself around and even getting halfway down the aisle before Harry seems to appear out of nowhere in front of him. He snarls, managing to brake just in time, but stopping with his knees touching Harry's.

“What do you _want_?” He knows his voice sounds harsh, far harsher than it had when he'd last seen Harry, but it's been a few years and he's changed considerably and he's a coward and...

“You just disappeared on me.” Harry says quietly like it explains everything. And it's not like he's _wrong_ , because Louis is _definitely_ a coward, has been since the accident. While Louis struggles to think of a response, tries to think of an excuse, green eyes land on the wheelchair. Land on Louis' useless legs in the joggers Liam had helped him into and the Vans that Liam had helped him tie, and something pitying slides into that gaze and Louis snaps again.

“Can you get the hell out of my way? I have places to be, ones that aren't here.” He tries to angle his chair around Harry, but the other lad steps in his way once more. Beckham is absolutely _useless_ , deciding to sit next to his chair like he knows this is going to take a while. Louis wants to _cry_ , he's never been so betrayed by his dog before. “Can you please _stop_.”

“Can you just _talk_ to me?” One of Harry's hands flutters uselessly before landing on one of Louis' knees. He can't feel it, but Louis remembers how warm Harry's hands are, and that makes this all the worse. “What happened to you?”

Louis grits his teeth, looking up at Harry and willing him to just _leave_ and walk back out of Louis' life like Louis had rolled out of Harry's without Harry's knowledge.

“He got into a car accident,” Liam says, walking up behind them. Louis can tell by Liam's voice that he has no idea who Harry is to Louis, and this is just one more thing that he doesn't want to have to deal with.

“A car accident?” Harry begins, but he doesn't get further than that question as a blond comes around the corner, tapping at a tablet.

“Haz, the paps are getting anxious to take those pics we hired them to...” the blond trails off at the sight of the three of them gathered awkwardly: Harry facing Louis in his chair and Liam standing behind the chair with a confused expression on his face. He looks from Liam and Louis to Harry, open face clearly questioning what's going on.

Harry sighs, running a hand over his face before reaching out to take Louis' hand. “I have to go. Can I at least call you or something?”

Louis wants to take his hand back. He wants to leave the store and never come back. He wants Harry to leave his life, let everything go back to what it used to be. However, before he can address any of that, he hears Liam's hands clap and _god_ he hates how cheerful that sound is.

“Absolutely! He needs more friends in his life.” Liam says, voice as cheerful as his hand clap, and Louis fucking _hates_ him.

He's too busy trying to turn to glare up at Liam so he doesn't see Harry's face when Harry says, “He never had many friends in high school.”

“You knew him in high school?” Liam asks as Louis turns back to glare at Harry because he hates Harry now too. He's quite fine avoiding the past; why does his ex have to come back into his life and bring that up? “Lou doesn't talk about high school much. Just says the accident ruined his life.”

“That's terrible,” the blond says, coming up to the group. “And I'm sure Harry would love to chat with you blokes, but now's not a good time. Duty calls and all.” He digs a card out of a breast pocket and hands it to Liam. “Why don't you call me later and we can set up a time for Harry to reminisce or something, yeah?”

Louis continues to stay quiet, not wanting to be a part of this conversation. He hasn't even wanted to be here since it started.

He hates Liam and he's _going_ to burn that business card before Liam can set up any such chat.

 

 

Louis doesn't get a chance to burn the damn business card. In fact, Liam doesn't even give him a chance to try to escape. He just comes home from physical therapy a few days after the incident at the store and there, sitting on their sofa like he has any bloody reason to be, is Harry. Sitting on the edge of their recliner is Liam, who at least manages to look majorly guilty for doing this behind Louis' back when he was at _physical therapy_.

“I didn't know you two were speaking again,” Lottie begins carefully, pushing Louis' chair into what feels like a war zone. Louis knows he never told Lottie that he and Harry had been dating back in high school, but his sister isn't stupid and Harry had always been around at the Tomlinson household. It wasn't hard to put two and two together and come up with four, although there had been a period after his accident where Louis was pretty sure Lottie was trying to convince herself the answer was actually five.

“We're not. I have no idea why he's even here.” Louis bends down to unhook Beckham from his chair and the dog, curse him too, goes over to sniff Harry curiously. Harry, bless and curse him in the same breath, holds his hand out for the dog to sniff before removing the dog's vest.

Liam immediately stands up. “Lots, how 'bout some tea?” Louis' sister starts making some token protest, but Liam quickly steers her toward their tiny kitchen, leaving Louis with his dog and his ex-boyfriend.

Has Louis mentioned that he hates Liam?

He repeats that out loud, stating it in the direction of the kitchen for good measure, and is rewarded by a quiet smile from Harry. Which, _why is he smiling like he has any bloody right to_?.

“You never used to be so bold in your sarcasm,” Harry finally says, long fingers smoothing out the vest. “You were a pretty shy thing in high school.”

“Yeah, well, accidents change your life and all.” Louis remembers being unable to be rude to Harry back in high school, but Harry's got this look of pity on his face, and if there's one thing Louis hates, it's pity. He pushes himself over to where Beckham's leash is stored, using the task to look anywhere that isn't at Harry. He mostly succeeds. Mostly, because he finds that now that Harry's back in his life, all he wants to do is look at him.

“What happened exactly? I know your friend said that you'd been in a car accident...” Harry's voice trails off, and Louis has a sudden urge to tell Harry that Liam's his boyfriend, but doesn't.

Instead, he sighs, and pushes himself back toward the sofa. He doesn't really like to talk about it, but he's got dreams filled with the memories of shattered glass and dripping blood and being unable to feel anything below his waist. Maybe he can get Harry to leave if he tells him. “I was running an errand for Mum and a drunk driver ran a light. Slammed into my car.” His fingers drum absently against the push bar. “Got a bunch of stitches in my scalp, and a new way of getting around.”

He sees Harry frown, trying to process that. Louis doesn't know what life was like for Harry after his accident, had purposely lost touch with him out of shame. Hell, he doesn't even know who that blond was and why he'd been talking about Harry needing paps taking his pictures, although he does remember Liam mentioning a celebrity. And then Harry had shown up.

Finally, Harry speaks. “Why did you shut me out? I wouldn't have minded....” He gestures vaguely at the chair. “You know, that.”

Louis can't help but grit his teeth. “I shut a lot of people out. I didn't like the pitying looks I got. I still don't, and I've made a pretty good life for myself out of blocking people out.”

Harry looks at him for a long moment before nodding quietly and getting to his feet. “Alright. I'll see myself out then.”

Louis pushes himself back and watches as Harry lets himself out. He really hopes that's the last time he sees Harry's back. He hopes that's the end of it.

 

 

It's not the end of it.

Louis had convinced himself that Harry was gone for good, had convinced himself that Liam was done interfering in Louis' life. No such luck because Harry manages to turn up a few days later, when Louis is home alone with just Beckham.

He'd planned a quiet day, spent writing his latest novel. That was the plan anyway. Louis has currently crashed on the couch marathoning awful reality television when there's a knock on the door. He thinks it's Liam, thinks maybe Liam's just forgotten his keys, and taps Beckham on the hip. “Go get the door, Becks.”

The dog does as told, the strap for the door firmly in his jaws. Still thinking it's Liam, Louis doesn't bother to turn.

“Forget your keys, Payno?” He teases as the door shuts and Beckham is clearly properly rewarded because the dog's tail stops thumping against the table by the door, but freezes when he hears the footsteps crossing toward the couch. Those are _definitely_ not Liam's, and he finds himself staring up at Harry Styles instead.

“I did some research after I last saw you,” Harry begins sheepishly, hands wringing in front of him, and Louis is suddenly reminded of what Harry had been like when they'd been kids together. The main difference between the Harry of his past and the Harry currently standing in front of him lies in the clearly high class clothing his ex is wearing. Louis still hasn't gone in search of what Harry's been up to, has no interest in it. “And I have some questions I'd like to ask you.”

“There's nothing to talk about.” Louis frowns up at him. “There's no questions to ask, because I didn't say you're going to be in my life. I'm doing good without you.” He gestures toward the flat at large, knowing in the back of his head that it's certainly not suitable for his chair, but it's _his_. And Liam's too, but _his_. He manages just fine without Harry. “Been doing good without you.”

“I know.” Harry smiles as he sits down in the recliner uninvited. Like he was expecting the protest from Louis, like the last time he'd seen Louis had adjusted his memories of the Louis he'd known and realised this new Louis needed to stand on his own two feet. So to speak. “But even from where I'm sitting, I can tell this flat isn't the best for you in that chair. You're on the third floor for a start. Thankfully, there's an elevator.” He leans back, looking down the hallway curiously. “Can you even get to your bedroom on your own?”

Of course he can't. But Louis isn't going to make this easy on Harry, even if he has no idea yet what exactly Harry's offering him. “Yeah, I totally can.”

A challenging smirk crosses Harry's face, and Louis realises that this Harry is as much a new Harry as he's a new Louis to his ex. “Prove it.”

Louis looks at his chair standing by the far edge of the sofa, where he'd parked it when he realised writing wasn't going to happen. It's a distance he can easily cross, has done so hundreds of times. But for some reason, he doesn't want Harry to see the reality of what his life has become. Instead, he leans back, resting his arms along the back of the sofa. If he could, he'd prop his feet up on the coffee table, the picture of laziness. “Nah, too comfortable right here.”

Harry chuckles like he'd been expecting that response too, his green eyes glittering. “Thought you'd say that. I've been texting with your flatmate and he said you're pretty stubborn when it comes to your disability.” He reaches a hand out for Beckham to sniff when the dog comes over. “Hey, pup. I know you're in your home, but are you working? Can I pet you?”

He glances toward Louis as he asks the dog and Louis finds himself nodding because, _holy shit_ , Harry has been doing his research if he knows to first ask the owner if he can pet the disability dog.

“His name's Beckham,” he adds as an afterthought as Harry starts scratching Beckham's ears like he knew exactly where the dog likes scratches best.

“After the footie player,” Harry says with him, and Louis narrows his eyes as the other man starts laughing. It's not _that_ funny, god.

“I remembered he was your favorite player!” Harry continues to laugh, holding one hand up. “You always admired him. Made sense that the dog that helps you out would be named that.” He turns his attention to the dog, both hands going to town in the dog's fur just the way the animal likes it. And that's not fair, using Beckham's love of scratches against Louis. “Does your daddy take you out regularly or someone else, huh? You and your daddy should come live with me. I got a big garden for you to romp in. So much space for a good boy like you, and no elevators or stairs to go up and down to get to said garden.”

Beckham being told that he and Louis should come live with Harry makes Louis' hackles rise. He still hasn't decided if Harry's going to be allowed back into his life, is pretty sure that he probably won't be, and what the hell is Harry _doing_ , talking like this? When he says as much, Harry gives him another sheepish grin. It makes a dimple pop out and Louis finds himself with the old urge to fit his thumb into the dimple like he used to.

“I have a big house with a lot of open space. It gets pretty lonely when I'm home, and since I found you again, I don't wanna let you go. And my house would be _perfect_ for you in your chair.” His fingers flutter toward the flat at large. “Much better than your flat. And while it's got two floors, the master's on the main floor. No steps to hinder you.”

The casual way that Harry talks about getting back into Louis' life, the casual way he talks about Louis getting back into Harry's, makes Louis bristle more. It makes him uncomfortable, the way Harry talks about them like the last few years haven't happened. Like Louis is in a wheelchair, will be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, with all the obstacles that come with the territory. “Look, we're not together. I've got a flatmate. I have a _life_. One that doesn't include you and whatever the hell it is you do.” He doesn't want to admit that he hasn't done research into Harry's life the way Harry's clearly done research into what life for Louis is like, but he can't continue pretending he has any clue what Harry does if they do wind up living together.

Harry's hands move from Beckham's fur to Louis' hands. “ _Look_ , you ran from me once and I didn't know why. I got on the X-Factor as a way to deal with the confusion in the wake of your disappearance, and I made it big. I'm a huge pop star now, with all that entails, and I wasn't expecting to see you again when I had a pap walk to do.” His fingers twine with Louis', feeling like it hasn't been years since they last did that. “Don't take my offer to come live with me as a 'hey, we should get back together'. We were good friends before we were boyfriends, yeah?”

He looks so earnest and it's not a lie, so Louis nods quietly. He's rewarded by a huge smile breaking Harry's face in two, dimples on full display.

“Thanks.” Harry continues to beam, and squeezes Louis' hands. “I know from your flatmate that you're a recluse in this flat. I mean it when I say that I've got a huge house for you to do that in, with tons of space for Beckham too. And I've got more money than I know what to do with, so I can pay for your therapy and even a motorized chair if you want one.”

Louis blinks, unable to stop himself, because that is a _generous_ offer for just friends and it's enough to make him forget that he might not want Harry in his life. “I don't want a motorized chair. Quite happy with the one I've got.” He pauses. “What's in this for me? I know you say you just want to be friends, but.”

Harry's smile doesn't even falter. “I just want to take care of you for old time's sake. But if you need a job to feel better about the offer, I wouldn't mind another PA if you think you can do the job.”

Louis looks around his flat, at everything that isn't Harry Styles' earnest face. The thing is, he's starting to actually like the idea despite the fact he can't make up his mind on having Harry in his life. And even when he hates Liam, he doesn't want to abandon his flatmate unexpectedly because he _does_ like the man. But Harry, with their history, is an entirely different matter when it would come to taking care of Louis' physical needs, even if things stay platonic. And having the space would be nice, for both his chair and Beckham.

He finally looks back at Harry and finds the other man waiting patiently, eagerly, for his answer. He wonders briefly if he's making a mistake, jumping into something with his ex-boyfriend, even if they _were_ high school sweethearts, but he finds himself nodding.

“I'll come live with you, yeah.”

 

 

 

Louis' life changed in a fraction of a second when a drunk driver slammed into his car, paralyzing him from the waist down. It took a few years before he could love himself in his new body. It takes exactly five and a half months to fall back in love with his high school sweetheart, and another month to actually _do_ something about it.

To be fair, it takes _four_ and a half months to fall back in love with Harry – patient, caring, perfect Harry – despite all of Louis' best efforts to keep his distance. It takes another month for Louis to actually come to terms with the fact that his feelings for the other man have definitely returned.

When he actually admits it to Harry a month later, and Harry tells him that he never stopped loving him, Louis feels like a proper tit for having ever doubted him. For having run away from Harry in high school. For thinking he didn't want Harry back in his life.

Even when they were just friends, Louis couldn't properly remember why he'd pushed Harry away in the first place. That's not true; he knows why he did it back in high school after his accident. He just doesn't remember why he chose to continue to do so when Harry came back into his life.

Harry's house, he finds out on day one, really _is_ perfect for Louis and his needs. It's everything the flat was not, and Harry goes above and beyond to make sure that the master bath is wheelchair accessible. It does mean that Louis finds himself carried to the upstairs bath while it's being remodeled, and Harry even goes so far as to help Louis get ready for baths. In the past, he'd hated needing help like that, but now, he can't find it in him to care, especially when Harry does it with a cheerful smile on his face.

Months pass like that. Louis falls back in love with Harry, Harry tells him he never stopped, and somehow Beckham winds up with two daddies instead of one and the disability dog couldn't be more happy with it.

They make it official a year and a half after Louis admits that he's in love with Harry again, with Beckham as Louis' best man, which causes a lot of whining on Liam's part. The proposal leading to that event is an offhand comment when Harry finds Louis lying on the floor after a physical therapy session that took more out of Louis than he'd care to admit, and he can't find it in him to pull himself to his chair or the sofa, both within easy distance. Harry leans over him with a big smile, says, “I'm going to marry you some day,” and scoops Louis up to carry him to their bath for a long soak.

Louis' life changed in a fraction of a second when a drunk driver slammed into his car, paralyzing him from the waist down. It took a few years before he could love himself in his new body. But all the heartache and pain is forgotten after nearly a decade, and Louis finds that he couldn't be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the author notes, if I've gotten anything wrong, please, please, please let me know.


End file.
